


my heart in your hands (it shines like a star)

by writing_addict



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: But it's definitely there, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Parental Riza Hawkeye, Parental Roy Mustang, Past Child Abuse, Romance, Sharing a Bed, christmas fic gets published on new years, edling r cute they're sharing a bed, i mean they straight up let six kids just take over their house for the holidays so, it's implied for ling but it's there, not bc i procrastinated i swear, they dont speak so its like implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_addict/pseuds/writing_addict
Summary: They say that the holidays are magical, a time of being together with family and focusing on what really matters: love, no matter what shape it comes in. It's always, always love.Ling thinks he might finally understand that.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Ling Yao
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50





	my heart in your hands (it shines like a star)

**Author's Note:**

> secret santa fic goes brrrrrr also this is my first time writing edling so please be gentle! ed from the server if ur out there,, im ur secret santa ily

“So…are you excited?”

Ling blinks as an arm drapes over his side, before rolling over to face Ed. His eyes flick over his freckles, tracing the constellations he imagines there, before he smiles at him. “Excited for what? Tomorrow?” Ed snorts softly, as if to say _of course, you idiot, you know exactly what I’m asking,_ and he tries not to giggle at the disgruntled look on his face. “I mean…a little bit. I’ve never had an Amestrian Christmas before— _duh_ —and I’ve never…been in _this_ situation, I guess.”

Here. Safe. With people he loves—with the _person_ he loves, lying so close to him that he can see the little scar on his cheek where one of Al’s infinite supply of rescue kittens had scratched him long before they’d met. In a room that’s his, not _the prince’s,_ in a house full of people like him. People sharing love, and joy, and happiness, people dedicated to giving that joy and happiness to each other.

He’s lost…so much. Everyone here has, from the Elrics to Winry to Mei to, well, _him._ Finally getting to process that loss, to stop focusing on being the prince, the heir, the emperor was terrifying. And this? Being a _normal person_ after being raised as a weapon? Is absolutely terrifying, if he’s being honest. Having a family, even if it’s a weird cobbled-together mishmash of orphans and child solders and a couple adults with an actual house to keep them in over the holidays, is _scary._ He keeps waiting for one of them to snap, for their generosity to crack, for the world he’s trying to build up after his dream fell apart.

They never do, though, and they never have—Brigadier General Mustang opened their home to Ed and Al and everyone else in the Rockbell house (which included Winry, and…well, Ling himself, after he’d fled Xing in a panic) and suggested that they could come spend Solstice, Christmas, and the Amestrian New Year’s in the city if they liked. He’d managed to get a message to Xing without interference (or being hunted down for leaving the country) and invited Lan Fan along, as well as his little sister. They’ve all been here for a week and a half, now, and it’s…

It’s strange. Wonderfully, beautifully strange, but still strange all the same. There’s so many traditions he’s learning about, little things that vary from household to household, so much _food,_ and not even a flicker of the pain and fear that’s ruled his life for so very long. He especially likes the notion of trees in a house; he doesn’t quite get why that’s not just a _holiday_ thing, he’d like one year-round, but there’s something soothing about going into the living room and seeing the big pine with a thousand lights and shiny baubles on it. Half of them are ones that Ed and Al picked out at the holiday market in Central Square (he’ll never forgive Winry and Lan Fan for pushing him and Ed under the stupid mistletoe booth—who came up with that tradition, anyways?—but they got them back afterwards, but it was fine) and the others are glass and crystal and dozens of pretty little ornaments that catch the light and make the tree shine like a star.

The radio programs—there’s so _many,_ about the legends surrounding the different holidays, the gift-giving, the mysterious saint that apparently slides down every chimney and delivers presents to good children (Ling has his doubts, but then again, he wasn’t a particularly good kid, so maybe that’s why he never got anything)—keep talking about how _magical_ this season is, and…well, Ling can’t really help but believe it.

“Ling?”

He blinks back into focus as a thumb strokes lightly over his cheek; he leans his head into the hand and smiles softly at Ed. “I’m excited,” he says honestly. “It feels weird, having something like this at all, but…but I’m glad I do. And I’m glad you’re here with me,” he adds, before tucking his face into the pillow in embarrassment when Ed’s face goes soft, a sweet smile crossing his face.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“I’m _your_ idiot, though,” he mumbles into the pillow, and grins when he hears Ed huff playfully. He wishes he could bottle the sun in that smile and get drunk on his laughter every day—that he could just stay here, forever, tangled up with him and whispering in the dark where nothing can hurt them.

A few years ago, that might have just been a pipe dream—the idea of being with someone, loving someone, of being safe. The emperor of Xing was forever a target, especially in the early days of his rule, and because of the war of succession he would not be allowed to take a spouse, husband or wife or consort. His life had always belonged to the Yao clan, but from that point on he would exist solely for his people. Any desire he had for himself wouldn’t matter. His life wouldn’t…matter. He’d be the vessel for the kingship and nothing more. And before he’d gone to Amestris, that hadn’t mattered to him. At all. It was what he’d been raised for, and nothing mattered except for the needs of his people.

Now, though, he knows—he’s _learning—_ that he’s allowed to want things for himself. Not his mother, not the Emperor, not the clan. _Himself._ Selfish things, good things, like someone who will hold his hand and see _him—_ see someone worth loving, someone who _craves_ that love _._ Like adults who treat him kindly, even fondly, like he’s a good person worth their affection. Like friends who will have his back, not just when he’s in danger but every day of his life. Like stupid little traditions and bigger, less-stupid-but-still-silly ones where he didn’t have to worry about anything except how many ornaments a branch on the tree could hold.

He’s got so much… _joy._ And _peace._ And all the light that’s been locked up within him, all the happiness and wonder he never let himself feel, is shining out and glowing and he swears everyone around him can see him light up like a star when he feels it. He swears _Ed_ can see it, if the way his eyes are shining mean anything in particular. The thought of that just makes the light in his chest soar higher, glow brighter, and he lets Ed tilt his head up, leaning into a soft, silent kiss before he drapes an arm over him and snuggles closer, content to let Ed hold him as snow drifts outside the window.

And after so much pain, so much heartache, so much loss…

All Ling feels is _love._

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays, everyone! <3


End file.
